I'm not here this morning to yak about seeing a snake in my house, though. I'm here to yak about something far, far worse.
What could possibly be worse than seeing a snake in the house?
Not seeing one.
Or what if... and here's where that active imagination comes in handy... what if our unwelcome guest was actually the late Mrs. Snake? And what if Mrs. Snake was looking to do a little nesting in the remote corner? What if she had filled the home with a bunch of little vipers in snake skin diapers?
Yeah, that's the kind of stuff I think about.
That would be the reason that we could call the Great Snake Adventure a true Come to Jesus moment around here. It caused me to think about such things as snakes and houses.
You see, the simple fact of the matter is that although I knew in my head that a snake could wiggle its way into a house, I sort of pushed it down the list of phobias because, well, that kind of thing just doesn't happen in my house.
Maybe your house, but not mine.
We live in a subdivision after all, not in the middle of a cotton field. The house is relatively modern, too. It's not as if I restored a wonderful old grey haired lady like I've always wanted to.
(I'm starting to see a reason why God kept saying no to that one....)
Nope. We live in well built, custom home. It's what is called a Georgia Power Good Sense Home too, which means that the powers that be say that we're adequately sealed. There's no possible way a snake could get inside my home.
And yet, it did.
We're still not exactly sure how he got in the home. All we know is that he found an opening somewhere and slithered in. The husband seems to think he was a back door friend. We tend to be careless with our back door, especially with all that coming and going that we do. We're busy people don'tcha know. Sometimes we leave the door wide open while we load to and from the Busy Mobiles.
We're not going to be doing that anymore...
Of course, maybe it wasn't an open door. Maybe it was an open window. Maybe it wasn't either one. Maybe it was just a crack somewhere After all... all a snake really needs is a crack.
No, we're not sure how the late Mr. Snack got into our house; we're just sure of one thing: We won't be so careless about cracks and openings in the home place ever again. We've done a thorough crack inspection. What's more, we've covered every conceivable threshold with the stuff that's designed to keep the snakes away. I even put empty boxes of moth balls in the remote spaces around here... just in case.
We're feeling pretty safe for now. Of course, it's just a temporary measure. Time and life tend to wear away at even the most effective snake repellent around a home. We're going to be more more vigilant about reapplying it in the future.
In the end, I'm glad that we saw the snake in the house that day. Really, it's true. After all, I would far rather be aware of a snake in the home than be completely oblivious as to its presence.
And I'll throw this one in for free: If a snake can slither its was into my well sealed home, it might be able to slither into your home as well. Just a thought.
By the way,
if you still think this post has really been about snakes this morning,
you might want to go back and read it again.
Write these commandments that I’ve given you today on your hearts. Get them inside of you and then get them inside your children. Talk about them wherever you are, sitting at home or walking in the street; talk about them from the time you get up in the morning to when you fall into bed at night. Tie them on your hands and foreheads as a reminder; inscribe them on the doorposts of your homes...